Correspondence With The Past
by demonprosecutor
Summary: Phoenix decides it's time to do that task he's been dreading for seven years. SPOILERS for ALL GAMES.
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters, Capcom does, blah blah blah.

WARNING: Spoilers for ALL Ace Attorney games.

_This disclaimer/warning goes for all chapters, mainly because I don't want to re-type it._

October 9th, 11:52 pm

The Corridor

The Wright's Flat

For Trucy, the past two days had been the longest of her life. Now she was tucked up in bed in the flat above the Wright Anything Agency. Phoenix opened the door slightly to her tiny bedroom, described as a closet by the estate agent who had sold the flat to him. He felt she deserved better than this. Surely he could give her all that she deserved?

Phoenix smiled. She was flat out, probably dreaming about forgeries and poisoned stamps. Not the sweetest dream, but she seemed happy enough. He closed the door and walked along the short corridor to his own bedroom. It only took a few steps.

He put his hand of the door handle, ready and willing to hit the hay himself, but something stopped him. He felt somehow that this day wasn't quite over yet. He still had something left to do.

Another few steps and he was at the front door. Opening it revealed the metal staircase leading down to a concrete area that claimed to be a garden, though he could barely fit the dustbin there without blocking the stairs and the backdoor leading into the Wright Anything Agency.

He had gone down these stairs a million times before. He had bought the flat back when he was a law student as soon as he had found out it he was going to be working at Fey & co., though then it was only part time, an apprenticeship. He didn't know it was going to be his home for over ten years.

He paused before pushing the door open. He wasn't sure if what he was about to do was the right thing. It would bring back a lot of painful memories, he knew that, and emotionally it would be very difficult. But deep down he was sure it had to be done.

He flicked the light switch and, surprise surprise, the lights came on. He remembered the first time he had flicked the light on. Mia was away on business and Phoenix had to sort a few things out at the office. She had given him the spare key; he had never been so proud. Unlocking that door and turning that light on had been one of the greatest moment of his life, so much so that he wanted to relive it over and over again. The neighbours never learnt why he kept going in and out of the office over and over again for an hour.

He sat down at the glass table. For a moment he wished it was still that white desk he had sat at so many times, despite it having been signed, 'Maya was HERE' in permanent ink.

He reached over and lifted up the silk hat. Whatever you needed it was always under that silk hat. And, conveniently, Apollo had left a huge wad of A4 paper there. Phoenix smiled as he remember his words – "Mr. Wright, do _not_ use this paper. I don't care how tempted you are, just don't use it. I really, really need it. I'll pick it up tomorrow – and it had better still be there!" Well, he was basically inviting him to use it.

_We really need to tidy this place up, _Phoenix thought as he took a pen from a teacup on the table. How it had got there, he would never know.

October 9th, 7:00 am

Trucy's Room

The Wright's Flat

The alarm went off, playing a very loud and annoying version of, 'The Sun Has Got His Hat On.' Trucy turned over and turned it off with a wallop that would make anyone stop singing.

There was a certain amount of routine in the Wright household, be it a very small amount. Trucy tiptoed past her Daddy's bedroom and, with a few steps, reached the bathroom. The shower was hardly a Power Shower, but after a weak, cold shower she wrapped a blue towel around herself and tiptoed back to her room. When they were shopping she had wanted the purple towel, but Daddy didn't seem to like having purple around. He said it reminded him of an old friend too much.

She changed into her trademark black mini-dress and blue cloak; she slung her belt around her waist and spent about ten minutes trying to make it look casual; she attached her earrings with some difficulty, the cracked mirror being far too small to see her ears clearly; she tied her red scarf around her neck, not too tight, not too loose; she stepped into her tall, white boots, having mastered walking in them several years ago; she slipped her hands into her white gloves, smiling at the feel of their silky material; finally she positioned her proud, blue hat on her head. She was ready for a new day.

She glanced at the digital clock next to her bed. It was 8:02; Daddy should be up by now. She made her way to the kitchen for breakfast, whistling as she went.

"Good morning, Daddy!" she said as she opened the door. To her horror, Daddy wasn't there. She rolled her eyes. His alarm must have not gone off. She went into his bedroom to give him a wake up call, but he wasn't there either. Starting to feel worried she looked in every room in the flat. That certainly didn't take long. There was only one other place he could be.

She slid down the banister of the metal stairs outside the front door. She regretted it went she reached the bottom and saw the wet patch the morning dew had left. _Never mind,_ she thought, _there's no point in getting mad at nature._

She skipped into the Wright Anything Agency. The first thing she noticed was that the light was on. That wasn't like Daddy at all, wasting money on high electricity bills. She quickly turned it off.

A slight turn of the head revealed to her Daddy, collapsed in a heap on the sofa his head on the glass table. There was a pen lying loosely in his hand, a list of names and a map lying next to his head. His hat lay to right of him on the sofa and on the left was a pile of letters. Ignoring her snoring Daddy, Trucy picked up the first envelope. It was addressed to, "Adrian Andrews, c/o the Gatewater Hotel."

Trucy glanced down at the pile of letters with a curious frown. The next envelope read, "Ronnie and Desiree DeLite." She was sure she had heard these names before, but she couldn't remember where. Silently so as not to wake Daddy, she picked up the next envelope as well, making sure to keep them in the right order. To her surprise this one was addressed to Ema Skye. Trucy was so shocked she nearly dropped the letters in her hand. She let out a short gasp, but it was enough.

"Trucy, put those letters back _right now_. You had no right to go through them. You didn't read any, did you?" Trucy had never seen her Daddy so angry. She immediately put the letters back into place.

"I only read three of the envelopes, that's all! I swear!"

Daddy nodded. He stood up and put his hat on. He cleared the list, map and envelopes into a carrier bag and made his way to the door.

"Come on, Truce. Breakfast?"

October 9th, 7:23 am

Kitchen

The Wright's Flat

A thick silence hung over the kitchen table as Phoenix and Trucy ate their not-so-healthy breakfast of pancakes with too much syrup. The father and daughter could barely make eye contact. Trucy was eating as quickly as possible so as to try to leave the table as soon as possible and remove herself from her Daddy's presence. Phoenix was the first to break the silence.

"Sorry I snapped at you. It's just those are some very important letters, yeah?"

"Ok, Daddy." The silence was repaired for another few agonizing minutes until Phoenix found it necessary to break it again.

"I'm going to ask Apollo to babysit tonight. I'm going to be out all night. Don't argue, I'm not going to leave you here on your own."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"I have some letters to deliver."


	2. Adrian Andrews

October 10th 9:33 pm

Wright Anything Agency

"Thanks for this, Apollo. I'll probably be back at around twelve, Ok?"

"Why do you need a babysitter for only two and a half hours?"

"That's twelve lunchtime."

"Hey! Where am I meant to sleep?"

"I don't know – the sofa? You can have my room, if you're really desperate."

"…I'll just stay with the sofa, thanks."

October 10th 9:38 pm

The Gatewater Hotel

Hotel Lobby

It was getting late and the crowds of guests were shrinking gradually. It was a particularly easy time of the year and only four of the Gatewater's twelve information desks were being manned, three of which were available. Phoenix strode over to the desk with his usual confidence, despite the funny looks he was getting. It wasn't often a person of his … _casual_ attire entered a high class, luxury hotel like the Gatewater.

"Hi there," said Phoenix with his classic, stupid-looking grin plastered on his face, "You guys at the Gatewater have an Adrian Andrews in your address book, yeah?" The young man, clad in the customary yellow and red suit of the Gatewater, opened his mouth to speak. He had barely managed to do this before he was interrupted.

"Yeah, you do, I know. Well, I'm sure you have her address, so if you could send this letter to her I'd be very grateful. She's an old friend, see, so I need to get this letter to her as soon as possible. I'll be calling her to see if it's there or not in a week, and if it's not, I'll be having a word with your supervisor, Ok?"

The cowering yellow-and-red wreck nodded his head.

Phoenix didn't like having to use this aggressive behaviour, but sometimes it had to be done.

The Wright Anything Agency

October 9th 2026

Dear Adrian,

I'm sending this letter through the Gatewater – they'll have your address for sure. After all, the first time we met was at the Gatewater. Then again, we've only met twice and both times you were involved with organising something. Both times also involved someone getting murdered and both times you lied to me. Looks like we've got a them going here, eh?

Our first meeting was one of the craziest cases of all time. None of us saw that coming. Everyone dressing up as each other and framing each other – by the end of the trial I wasn't quite sure who _I _was, let alone everyone else.

Our second meeting wasn't quite as dramatic, though you did a nice job on that vase. The pink really brightened it up and it was good to see it restored to its original wording as well.

But enough reminiscing about the past, after all, the past is in the past. You probably know about what happened to me seven years ago. The consequences, however, you will not know. I am no longer a lawyer: instead I play the piano at a hopeless restaurant. Wright and Co. has become the Wright Anything Agency, a talent agency, though not a particularly successful one. We only represent three people and the office is a tip – we need you to come and manage us!

Our first member is myself, Phoenix Wright, pianist. Disaster pianist.

The second is my daughter, Trucy Wright. I adopted her seven years ago. She's an up-and-coming magician down at the Wonder Bar. Maybe you'd like to come and manage a performance, huh? On second thought, someone might get murdered. No offence.

Our final representative is a rookie defence attorney by the name of Apollo Justice. You could almost say he's my apprentice. So if you get into any deep trouble, ask for him, not me.

After everything that's happened to us, I've only three more things to say to you, Ms Andrews.

The first is thank you. Though you hid the truth at first, you always let it shine through in the end and revealed to us the last piece in the puzzle. You tried so incredibly hard to brighten up everyone's day and to paint a smile on their faces. Thank you for this. It's nice to find someone who's not purposely trying to get in the way.

Sorry for not trusting you one hundred percent all the way. I accused you of some ridiculous things and I regret that now. I opened up some nasty wounds – I'm sorry for causing unnecessary pain. I promise that this was not my intention at all.

Finally, I have to say goodbye for good. We've only met twice but I feel that I've known you all my life. I go through my life wondering when I'm next going to bump into you. Now I realise we probably won't meet again, so goodbye.

Yours as a friend,

Phoenix Wright


End file.
